


Happy Nalloween!

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Hogan's Heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 18:26:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16331237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: Well, everyone said Haven did things a little bit different than most.After the War





	Happy Nalloween!

**Author's Note:**

> References the story 'Well, Here's Another Fine Mess . . .

Andrew was whining, just a little, "I don't see why she said 'No', Peter. It's not like her. She's usually such a good sport about our holidays, you know?"

"That's true enough, Andrew, but fact is, she DID say 'No', and from the tone of 'er voice and the look on 'er face, she meant it. Can't imagine 'er doing that without 'aving a right good reason."

Peter looked at the chestfallen young man, actually pouting a little from the looks of it. He hoped that quick flash of defiance he'd seen before Andrew had lowered his eyes didn't mean he intended to do something rash. He didn't think anything good would come from that. Caeide had seemed rather upset at the very notion of celebrating Halloween.

Andrew was right; Caeide rarely said no whenever any of them wanted to celebrate the holidays they'd known in their past, even when she obviously didn't get the point. For someone whose family celebrated birthdays and the Solstices and their Day of Remembrance and that was pretty much it, she'd been quite accommodating. She'd tolerated his Guy Fawkes Day, though the livestock had been firmly disapproving of their improvised fireworks. The Christian religious holidays - Good Friday, Easter and such - were spent, for those of the household who wanted to, with services at the kirk, and a special dinner at home if any of the residents asked.

She'd laughed appreciatively at the Valentine's Day trinkets given to her by both Andrew and Peter, had given them sweet kisses in return, though reminding them that for her, EVERY day was Valentine's Day, with the sweetness they brought to her life, and they both thought they got the better of the exchange.

April Fool's Day had been abandoned after the second year, with both men ending up with bruises and stitches after a trick intended to startle Caeide had gone awry; well, actually the trick had worked just fine - they'd just forgotten momentarily that Caeide wasn't the best person to startle unexpectedly.

There was Independence Day, July 4th, though Peter, solely for his own amusement, protested a great deal before giving in to the idea. "Bloody upstart colonists!" hiding a grin at the look of total glee on Andrew's face at the fireworks. Again, the livestock had shown their disapproval and they'd spent the following two days collecting sheep from every corner of the place.

Thanksgiving came and was celebrated with a feast; well, she'd always held an end of harvest celebratory dinner, and that date worked as well as any.

There was Christmas, with her being far more obliging with Andrew's enthusiasm than Peter would have expected.

Somehow, it had just become the norm - they mentioned a holiday, the manner in which it was celebrated, and she'd consider and smile and do her best to make it happen for them. She'd even laughed and given the nod to Andrew's last addition, Chinese New Year. Those paper dragon kites had been really smashing, though they had no idea where she managed to get them, and the colorful paper lanterns had lit up the back porch and the orchard to the amazement of any who saw.

For this, Halloween, though, the young woman had been quick and firm with her response, a rapid, firm, absolute "NO". Well, she'd said the same for the past two years, but Andrew had been occupied with other matters then and hadn't really pushed. This year, for some reason, he wasn't letting it drop. There hadn't been time for any explanations; breakfast was over and chores waiting to be done.

Now, as the two men looked over the sheep, deciding which needed to go to the far pasture and which needed to stay closer, depending on their individual personalities and condition, it was on both their minds. Peter had gotten pretty good at reading the flashes across Andrew's face, knew when he wasn't ready to let a subject drop, even if he had gone quiet for the moment. And what he was seeing was worrisome; although Andrew was a good-hearted, agreeable soul, sometimes he let his enthusiasm run away with him. {"Maybe that's w'at Caeide was worried about,"} Peter thought. He made it a point to remember to ask her when they got back to the house.

{"Come to think on it, maybe I need to sit Andrew down and find out just what is so important about this particular holiday in the first place."} 

Peter took advantage of that cigarette break at mid-morning. "Andrew, just w'at so special about 'alloween that you're upset she didn't want it 'ere? Not like we don't 'ave lots of other special days; probably 'ave more between us all than most people do, come to think on it."

Andrew was quiet for awhile, then "Yeah, I know we do, but still. . . I guess because of what I remember from when I was a little kid. Oh, not on the res; we didn't do it there. But in town, almost all the kids did. There was always a party at one of the parents' houses, usually Mrs. Conner's place, with bobbing for apples, and cookies and punch and all kinds of games for the little bitty kids, and the older ones went trick or treating to just about everybody's house, well except for old man Deal, and boy, you didn't go bothering HIM, not unless you wanted a load of buckshot in your bottom!"

"And it wasn't just going begging for candy and showing off your costume, you know! You had to have at least two or three good jokes or riddles in your mind, or a short song, or be able to stand on your head or do a cartwheel, or something, cause some people would make you do a trick in order to get your treat. Course, you had to be real careful to make sure your costume and your 'trick' went together; it's real hard to do a cartwheel when you're dressed like a ghost or the Grim Reaper or anything with long robes, you know."

Newkirk was trying really hard to keep up with this, perhaps with less than total success. Still, he listened while Andrew continued, "some of the guys got up some OTHER tricks, not so nice ones, to play on anyone who didn't want to give you a treat at all! Of course, no one did those kind of tricks on old man Deal's property; boy! No tipping over HIS outhouse!! Jeff Caruthers and Mikey Lang did that one year, and they had to sleep in the barn til the smell wore off. No, old man Deal wasn't one to mess around with, let me tell you!!"

"Halloween was fun, Peter, and maybe the one time of the year it didn't matter who your parents were, or how much money you had or didn't have, or how smart or how dumb you were, or anything like that. It was how good the tricks were that you showed, and how neat a costume you could come up with, and it wasn't fair to be buying one, either; you were supposed to make it yourself! The grown-ups stayed out of it, mostly, and we got to stay up til after midnight, and just run wild!"

"And there were scary stories, too, lots of them. Boy, there was that one year Jimmy Bunsen told one that had all of us afraid to visit the outhouse after dark; Mom got really tired of that, having to walk along side, and ended up making Dad do a special cleansing ceremony on the chicken yard that you had to walk through to get there. I still remember that first trip alone after that, still expecting all those headless chickens to come sneaking up on me, but whatever he did, it did the trick alright. My dad was real good at stuff like that." 

Peter was finishing his cigarette, and after listening to all that, really was wishing for a stiff drink. With Andrew, asking a simple question didn't always result in a simple answer. While Peter was really tempted to ask about 'old man Deal', somehow he thought he really WOULD need that drink before he initiated that conversation, never mind that whole 'chicken yard and the 'eadless chickens' bit. Frankly, he found that just a little disturbing, taking a quick look over at their own chicken yard. Besides, he was in the mood for a cup of hot tea, and at his suggestion they headed back to the house.

He warned Andrew as they approached the back steps, "don't go ragging at 'er about 'alloween, now Andrew. I'll see if I can 'ave a word with 'er, see w'at the trouble is." 

The trouble, it seemed, was on a level even more complicated than the usual Andrew problem. Peter had listened for just a bit, then stopped her explanation with a "think Andrew needs to 'ear all this, Caiede-luv; I'll never remember it all!"

So they waited til Andrew clomped his way down the first of those wooden steps, winced in unison at the "uh oh!', the clatter as something rolled down those steps, then the thud as Andrew obviously followed after. They focused their eyes on the doorway, waiting for him to appear. They'd learned not to go dashing off at any such sounds, but instead giving him a few minutes to right himself and make his way to them. If he didn't, of course, they'd go see just how bad he'd bunged himself up this time, but most times, he appeared, a little sheepish, explaining just what had happened THIS time. 

Andrew popped around the corner, "uh, Caeide, you know that basket at the top of the stairs? Do you know where I can get another one like it?"

Peter snorted in amusement, seeing as how Andrew seemed to be moving well, although probably sporting a few new bruises. Well, anyway, that answered the question as to what had gone clattering. None of them relished making unnecessary trips up and down those stairs, so Caeide had commissioned a couple of stair-baskets, one to sit at the foot, the other at the head of the stairs. Things needing to go up collected in the lower basket, things needing to go down collected in the other, and on the last trip of the night, the one at the bottom went up, was emptied and stayed; on the first trip of the morning, the full basket at the top of the stairs came down, was emptied and placed back in its spot. A simple solution, but amazingly helpful. 

"Yes, Andrew, I'll put it on the list for the next visit to the village. I'm sure Mali Tanner can make us another. You've done yourself no harm?"

That got a wide-eyed, even puzzled look, "oh, heck no! And I think I found everything that was in the basket; I sat them on the counter in the big room."

"Come along, Andrew. I've been asking Caeide about this 'alloween notion of yours, and I think we both need to 'ave a listen to w'at she 'as to say." Andrew settled at the table, over his pout, obviously, that turn on the stairs distracting him somewhat.

Caeide sighed heavily, {"where to start?"}. "I'm told you on many occasions, Haven is a bit more 'magical' than some places. You know there's things that happen at Haven that would be considered more than a mite unusual elsewhere, yes? The odd clouds, the wards, the sometimes odd visitors - the Empusa?"

Both men flushed at the mention of that particular visitor - beautiful, lusty, looking to make a good meal out of both of them. Her voice drew them away from their embarrassed recollections of trotting naked around the homestead drenched in 'afterglow'.

"Just as there are places with more magic, more power than others, there are certain times of the year that have more power, more energy. All Hallow's Eve, your Halloween, is one of those, along with Beltane, of course. Those are times with the barrier between this world and others is more liminal, things can cross through, in either direction, with greater ease than other times. It's said if you are in just the right spot on either of those nights and chance to cross to another world, you might wander til the next such opportunity allows you to cross back, (though where or even when can be a question), and for some unlucky souls, you might never return."

"And it works in the other direction; beings, things, creatures from other worlds can, if they are in the right spot at the right time, cross into our world, and while that has proven to be good on occasion, it is more often not. Though I do wonder sometimes about Angie's mysterious lover; the timing of her foals seem to point to the possibility, especially with no one ever catching a glimpse of a stallion of that particular coloring at any other time. Truth be told, Angie's lover notwithstanding, combining a place of power and a time of power, that's rarely a good idea, and the actual celebrating of such a time, the celebrating perhaps catching the attention of those others, well . . ."

"Come, lads, let's settle in, I'll pour us a drink, and I'll tell you of what is written of the earlier days at Haven, when the custom of All Hallow's Eve was first brought by the strangers when they settled nearby, and of the sorrow and grief that trailed in its wake." 

They listened, Peter filling their glasses a second time after that final story about the abandoned homestead and what was found by the neighbors. Andrew gave a hard gulp, "Caeide, I'm fine with skipping Halloween, really." He was looking more than a little pale, maybe even a trifle green.

"I'd appreciate that, Andrew, I truly would. Not that I discount all the merriment you've described, but surely that would be as enjoyable at another time of the year? No where around All Hallow's Eve, of course, or Beltane either. Perhaps somewhere in between the two?"

And so it became a tradition at Haven - on All Hallow's Eve, Halloween, there was dinner as usual, merry songs, and the telling of funny stories. And on February 16th, the celebration of Nalloween, when there was apple-bobbing, the telling of scary stories, cookies and punch, a best-costume contest, with everyone participating, and then all of them, still in costume, having a scavenger hunt throughout the orchard and barns, all of it being lit by those colorful paper lanterns they used every year for Chinese New Year. The locals got used to it, and stopped remarking on the oddness after a dozen or so years.


End file.
